A/N: I feel like a complete dope. I entitled each chapter with names in other languages, yet I forgot to post the translations. So sorry, adoring fans and flaming buggers!

Départ: The French equivalent of "Departure"

Tōchaku: Japanese for "Arrival"

Atychia: Greek for "Misfortune"

Vinem Voro: As mentioned in the chapter, Latin for "Wine Swig"

Scáthanna d'aois: Irish for "Shadows of Age"

Dobro Pozhalovatʹ v ad: Russian for "Welcome to Hell"

Regarding pairings: I should have cleared up something. Any pairings present in this fic will most likely be brief and mostly implied, as romance was not the purpose of this story. Second of all, regardless of how many other couples are mentioned, Matthew most likely WILL NOT end up with anybody. Sorry if this comes as a disappointment, but I have my reasons. Don't let that turn you away from this fiction, please. The genre is not romance, and it shan't change.

Don't kill me. I've been scatterbrained this week. Enjoy this chapter… or don't. Your choice…


"Well, looks like this is it…" Matthew muttered under his breath, gawking up at the towering wooden door before them. It stood at a good seven feet tall, broad and regally patterned with a traditional renaissance design. The hallways, vividly lit by natural sunlight, as it seemed everything in the town was, were gaping and spacious, stretching far beyond the sights of a single man. The ceiling stood higher still than the door itself, tall enough to compare with a colossal skyscraper… or, at least, so went the thoughts of a certain Canadian student. "What class was this supposed to be again?"

"The schedule paper doesn't specify, not that it surprises me all that much." Arthur's emerald orbs rescanned the semi-wrinkled paper in his hands, head shaking slowly. "I respect a certain sense of anonymity, but this school takes it a bit far. Shall we go in?" From beyond the barricade created by the door, the two students heard not a single noise erupt from the other end. They weren't, by any means, late; Arthur and Matthew both made it a point to be ridiculously punctual.

Matthew gave a hesitant nod, beckoning the Englishman to enter first. The older male grunted, muttering something incomprehensible under his breath and tapping his slender fingers along the outer rim of the doorknob. Swallowing a hard gulp of saliva, the Brit jerked on the handle and shoved the door open with a rather brutal force, allowing them their first view of the class. Or lack thereof.

"You're late," remarked a sickeningly-cheerful voice. A single man stood parallel to the two students, a vexing smile plastered onto his face as a grin is sewn onto a china doll; so innocent in appearance, it was inarguably repulsing. He wore a typical suit-style dress shirt, what the two students assumed to be the required school uniform that they were to receive, complete with khaki pants and a deep red tie. A lengthy khaki-colored scarf hung loosely from around his neck, bundling his collarbone and throat from the chilly air conditioner present indoors. In all honesty, Matthew mistook him for a student; he certainly didn't look any older than them. "I assume you two are Matthew Williams and Arthur Kirkland, da~?" Again, that unsettlingly-sweet grin that churned Matthew's stomach into fearful knots planted itself directly on his face.

"Yes, sir. Am I to assume that you're one of the beta students?" One of Arthur's thickly-groomed eyebrows rose defiantly, clearly not impressed with this show of simpering. "So, in all actuality, you aren't much older than us, correct?"

"Ivan Braginski, Russian beta student. Now, if you will, make your way to the back room and find the rest of the class. Further instructions will be given afterward…" His welcoming violet eyes gleamed in the bright light of the building, focusing in on the Briton. "Unless you have something better to do?"

"N-No. I'm perfectly fine…" Arthur felt his voice crack as his legs nearly buckled beneath him. "Come on, Matthew. Let's hurry up and find the others." He clutched desperately onto the Canadian's thin wrist and whisked him past the Russian creep, who began emitting a murderous aura of sorts, pulling him out the door in the back of the classroom and into a much more spacious enclosure. Slamming the door frantically behind them, he detached his clammy hand from Matthew's wrist and to his own beating heart. "That could have ended horrendously. There's something wrong with that man, Matt. I don't like it. Let's just hope that the beta students aren't our professors for the remainder of the year."

"Beta students?" Matthew questioned, curiosity evident in his purple gaze.

"Yes. According to the handbook, a select few college students were taken from their academies and placed in the nameless Institute. They were to go about their lives as the true students would, in order to test everything out. After all, things at this college are just so bizarre to everyone. Clearly, that Ivan guy was one of the first to arrive, as he seems have his own share of bizarreness as it is…"

"I'm sorry, Arthur. What was that you were saying?" chimed an all-too-familiar voice. Matthew could have sworn that his fellow classmate rocketed into outer space from his startled jump. The Russian peered out from behind the desk in the center of the room, beaming smugly at the two newcomers. "If you have nothing more to say, then do take your places in the crowd, da~?"

"Of course, of course… Come on Matthew." The two newcomers, stealing one last suspicious glance at the beta student, staggered anxiously over to a small group huddled together like a herd of sheep in the corner of the room. Their class was exceptionally small, as school gathering come, consisting of only about seven other men and women, not including themselves. Undeniably, they were nothing short of culturally diverse; clothing and physical attributes accounted for a variety of different faces. "Guess this is our homeroom class, huh? Assuming we have a homeroom, that is…"

Matthew said nothing in reply, instead awaiting further instructions from Ivan, who was fingering through a stack of papers, bundled together with a formal band. The Russian man's violet eyes bore into the Canadian's, identical in hue yet opposite in tone, and an intimidated gleam flashed before the beta's eyes. This was, however, thankfully short-lived, and the tension settled in the room as the older man turned to the group. "As you know, my name is Ivan Braginski. I will be the equivalent of an upperclassman to you, so don't do anything that you'll regret." His wicked smile broadened. "Today will be a fairly simple day, as long as you listen to and obey everything that I am about to tell you. Anyone with any objections can hop on a plane and resign. Shall we begin with a tour?"

A stream of uneasy glances darted between each member of the group, eyes meeting each other in a glare of paranoia. The class remained silent, dead as a doorknob, until Ivan ushered them forward, wearing a milder smile, but one of demoralization nonetheless. No other words escaped his tightly-pressed lips as he turned on his heels and casually strode out into the hallway, his "students" shadowing reluctantly behind. "This is the "A" hallway. It is here that you should find most of your core classes. The professors will expect you to arrive promptly one minute before the final bell rings. Oh, and one more thing; don't be too surprised if your mentors aren't much older than yourselves. Don't worry; most are experienced, but we're still awaiting replies and arrivals from the other teachers, so a few beta students have had to fill in the position. Ah, Raivis?" The Russian's gaze fell upon its poor victim, a young boy who had begun to stray, rather clueless, around the vast hallway. "Let's not travel too far from the crowd, da~?

"That kid barely looks old enough to be in high school!" Matthew whispered to Arthur, readjusting his glasses upon his nose. "Where's he from?"

"I'm guessing he's that kid from Latvia. According to the bartender at Vinem Voro, Raivis Galante was invited to stay at the university while his family was away. Apparently, he has a close aunt who works within the faculty, and she agreed to have him live and mingle with the rest of the students." Arthur jerked his head a single time, signaling to Matthew that they were going to get left behind, lest they quit gabbing about gossip and catch up with the others.

"And, if you turn this corner, you can find the cafeteria. Other than the main office and the classrooms, this is the only other place you will probably come across the betas. A few of them work the food lines, while others help tutor you little ones in that corner over there." Ivan motioned to an isolated corner of the cafeteria, collecting cobwebs and caked with grime and dust. "As you can see, none of the betas did it very often. If the food offered here does not agree with your tastes, you are allowed to walk over to the local restaurants, though it costs less money to buy from the school. If you look-"

"Ivan~!" chided a deep-yet-feminine voice from the repulsive corner. Upon further inspection, Matthew could make out a frail woman's form in the shadows, sunlight from beyond the glass walls gleaming upon her oceanic blue eyes in a somewhat ferocious fashion. Averting his gaze to the glimmering floor before her, the faintest tint of silver tainted the stark-white tiling upon which she sat, appalling the Canadian with a terror-induced revulsion. Within her slightly trembling hands, she clutched a butcher's knife, a hint of deep red encrusted upon the tip and along the ever-sharp edge… what was assumed to be cow blood, from cafeteria food of the meaty variety.

"O-Oh, hello, Natalia." Ivan's voice twitched involuntarily and his lips quirked ever-so-slightly during his eternal smiling. "Underclassmen, this is Natalia, the student who enrolled form Belarus. She's a beta, like me, and is one of two great cooks here at the Institute." His wide grin failed to falter in the slightest, though his legs seemed more than willing to remove the rest of his body from the premises. "Let's move on, da~?"

"Ivan, come back," the strange beta said dreamily, taking a struggling crawl in the man's direction as he whisked away from her field of vision. "Let's get married now…"

"We'll talk about that later, da?" he shouted from across the room before shutting the door and brushing off the front of his uniform. "Anyway, class, don't take Natalia lightly. She was the first person to sign up for the beta testers, and has been through more than the rest of us. I like to think that this is what has deranged her so much…"

How can he say that with such a cheery smile on his face? The thought aroused distaste within Matthew's heart, his arms folding over his chest in saddened dismay. I guess he's been through a lot too, but I don't think everything's alright in his head, either…

Arthur followed leisurely behind the rest of the meager crowd, green eyes darting this way and that as he clasped his hands properly in front of him. He had recognized a few familiar faces upon passing by other tour groups; for instance, he had managed to pick out that odd Italian from the bar the other day… the one who had eaten about five full plates of spaghetti before getting dragged out by his German comrade. He had also come across both Francis and Alfred, who had managed to share a homeroom as well, and flipped them both the bird behind his back as they walked past each other. Neither the Frenchman nor the American was all that bad, but torturing them as they had to him would always prove to be an entertaining pastime. Matthew sure hasn't said much since the tour started. Wonder if he's alright… "Hey, Matt? Is everything-?"

Alas, as frantically as the Brit searched around for his acquaintance, Matthew Williams was nowhere to be found.

********

I can't believe I got separated… That Russian psycho is definitely gonna do me in now! Matthew could feel his heart rate escalate to the sky as he rushed in a crazed panic down the mostly-deserted halls of the Institute, huffing and panting as he pushed himself well beyond his fitness limit. He skidded around a corner, gazing behind his shoulder. What am I going to do? It's only the first day of class, and I've surely already managed to anger my beta… Why do these things always happen to me? Why do they-

"Oof!" Before he could twist his head around to look forward again, the Canadian applicant found himself colliding with another student, his thin-rimmed spectacles rebounding off of his face and onto the slick tile floor, soon followed by the two teens toppling over from loss of balance. "Sorry, sorry! I'm kind of in a hurry." Matthew snatched his glasses from the floor, slipping them hastily back on his nose and stealing a glance at his unfortunate victim, sitting upright beside him.

It was a woman, one of a year younger than him. Her body, frame well-hidden beneath a jacket draped over her shoulders, was garbed in the typical Institutional uniform (that he would have received, had he kept up with his group), and her face was well-wreathed by auburn locks of hair. Her eyes met his, a striking hazel, and she immediately looked away in desperation, irises darting back and forth in search of something.

"Um, sorry. Here, need some help?" he asked sheepishly, embarrassed by his mistake. He reached down, offering a hand.

"Not from you." Ouch. That stung, regardless of whom it was he was speaking to. She rose to her feet, brushed off her long black skirt, and raced away. The peculiar woman's head darted left and right, still in deep search for an unknown object of value as her lithe form disappeared beyond his field of vision. Matthew watched her leave, standing upright as well before taking off in the opposite direction, panicky as ever.

If first impressions have a lasting effect, then he wouldn't get along at all with that rude lady, if one would call her that. He would continue running, until he would come across his group at last, scolded by Arthur for straying too far. Thankfully, the Englishman had had enough courtesy to cover for him, and the Canadian wasn't forced to endure the wrath of Ivan Braginski…

A wrath which, he feared, would send him to his death. But Matthew Williams had always been a bit paranoid, why should this differ any?

********

Alfred could feel his phone vibrate violently within his pants' pocket. As a matter of fact, the accursed bugger had been going off consistently since he had departed from the classroom to go on this pointless trek around the campus. The American couldn't help but assume the worst, however, and had blatantly ignored the aggravating quiver until the time had come to excuse himself to the restroom and had hurried desperately for the secluded bathroom in which he could talk on the phone in privacy.

"Hello?" he asked, flipping open his phone.

"Alfred." Father. And the old man did not sound pleased. "Care to tell me the truth yet?"

"Truth about what?"

"You know very well what I'm referring to. You've been behaving in an even more idiotic manner than usual. And, while we're at it, mind telling me why the Canadian won't pick up his phone?" Again, the heartless voice retained a calm, icy tone.

"His name is Matthew," Alfred seethed, eyebrows arching into a look of pure disgust. "And, no, I don't know why."

"I would also like to know why there is suddenly a hole in my wallet. I seem to be missing a certain bundle of money, valuing at about ten thousand dollars?"

The teen said nothing in reply, pounded at the stall door with his fist, and hung up abruptly. He immediately regretted ending the call; he was required to visit his father over the next break, and would undoubtedly be punished for his disobedience and disrespect.

Just another scar to match, I suppose…

Without another word, the American student retreated from the stall and continued on with his group, massaging his bruised fist.


A/N: One last exam tomorrow, then I get the half of the day off! Yay! Expect more from me regarding this story and APFAP by tomorrow night.

Because someone will ask, Mattie does not end up with the rude girl.

R&R. We've hit 35, now let's go for… 100! Kidding, that's a bit unrealistic, but maybe within time, we can get there! No, I don't expect that many after one update, but eventually, it would be a nice goal to accomplish.

And I would like to thank those of you following this little story of mine. Love ya to bits!